Do I Wanna Know?
by CanaanAlphardForever
Summary: [50] Blue eyes lifted and met brown, and Ymir felt a strong shiver rock through her body. "Oh?" Those same blue eyes that often screamed the victim, now yelled the victor—the predator that would surely hunt Ymir down. AU. Yuri. Smut. One-shot. Song-fic


Author's Note: Inspired by "Do I Wanna Know?" by Arctic Monkeys. Give it a listen while you read to set the mood.

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Smartly dressed people all drank from high wine glasses. Tuxedoed bodies elegantly danced or walked across the polished floor. Feet scuffed, though barely made a sound.

Ymir tugged at the cuffs of her white dress-shirt and attempted to keep the ticking out of her eyebrow. She ignored the tightness around her throat—she hated ties. Unfortunately this occasion demanded one.

Someone lifted a hand and Ymir calmly walked over to the man. He took the last drink from her tray, and then without sparing a look or a word of appreciation, turned back to his rugged companion. They chuckled amongst themselves and Ymir glared their way as she melted back out of the crowd.

Tray pressed to her side, she looked around the area for a familiar shimmering dress that accentuated a petite though able form. No blue eyes stared through the mass of the crowd. Blonde hair didn't flutter in defiance either.

Ymir chewed on her lip and tapped a finger against the cold, metal tray. She wore gloves, but hated them.

Hastily she removed them and then noticed the glass veranda door open. A chilling breeze flowed inside of the stuffy hall. Without a notice Ymir headed for it, both desperate to be rid of these stifling people and of the humid air.

A tall blonde man, full of bulk and muscle and practically bursting from his suit signalled for Ymir's service, but the brunette merely sent him a hostile glare. He furrowed his large eyebrows, unimpressed with her audacity, but made no scene of it and merely returned to his short blonde companion.

Ymir grinned lightly to herself and then slipped through the open doorway. She quickly shut it behind her, keeping the fresh air for herself and blocking the conversation that had buzzed through her ears.

"Reiner is a wealthy business man, you know," a strong voice spoke up.

Ymir straightened instinctively, unaccustomed to the undertone of authority. However, there lied a string of amusement behind the words, which eased Ymir's unease and helped her melt into a grin.

"I dreamt about you nearly every night this week," Ymir said in response, though entirely missing the topic.

Blue eyes lifted and met brown, and Ymir felt a strong shiver rock through her body. "Oh?" Those same blue eyes that often screamed the victim, now yelled the victor—the predator that would surely hunt Ymir down.

Strangely, Ymir did not mind.

She sauntered over towards the tiny figure leaning against the cold railing, and then leaned on it backwards.

"Reiner can fuck himself," Ymir growled through a large grin.

A short wind passed over them, and despite the fact that she wore a dark blue dress with straps and no sleeves, her small, pale shoulders did not shake. She seemed to barely register the sensation of a cold breeze, even as her blonde hair fluttered about.

"You say the most unclothe things, Ymir," she said. A dangerous tone filled her voice and Ymir absolutely loved it.

"I only say what Historia wants to hear."

"Don't call me that," she warned bitterly. She glanced down to the glass of whisky in her hand and then, thinking quickly, took a long sip. It burnt as it slid down her throat.

Even though she was standing with her legs parted, arms on the railing so that her chest fell forward, and she drank greedily from her glass, Ymir couldn't help but find herself enraptured by the pure grace the woman put into every move she made—though tonight she seemed less careful and easier to read.

Ymir had long since found a tune that reminded her of that silky blonde hair and the taste of her soft, pink lips. Every night she would play it on repeat—touching a finger to her lips and almost kissing the angel again.

"Krista, then?" Ymir enquired, patronizingly. She slunk down so that she was at 'Krista's' level, and then broke out into a slow grin.

Krista's eyes narrowed, but she made no comment for a long while. She merely drank her alcohol and glanced out over the large backyard that stretched before them.

"Such a waste," she eventually spoke. "So much space for only three people. Two of which barely live here. The extravagance makes me sick."

"Ah, so the Prima Dona has a heart."

Suddenly Krista turned and dumped the last of her drink on Ymir's head. She seemed pleased as the liquid trickled through Ymir's brown locks and slipped along her face.

"If you have nothing interesting to say, then please return to the hole you live in."

Ymir's eyes narrowed but she did not move an inch. She sensed a trap, and as the caged lion she had to tread carefully.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your tantrum, but I'm constantly on the cusp of kissing you," Ymir said. "Is that interesting enough?"

Krista's mouth remained downturned. Her bored, half closed eyes barely flashed with any emotion. But her cheeks were flushed. Her chest heaved, and with a simple flicker of her eyes Ymir could see the blonde's cleavage.

"Aren't you uncharacteristically poetic tonight," Krista cooed condescendingly. "I did not know they encouraged that where you're from."

Ymir took the hit as it was—an empty attempt to injure. She was not from the most prestigious background, and sure she worked for the richest people in the country, but merely as their servant. So what? She had nothing to feel ashamed about.

"And yet," Ymir husked, grabbing the front of Krista's dress and pulling her closer. "You pull me into your bed and enjoy my company all night."

Krista lifted an eyebrow, the only reaction to the finger now playfully trapped between her breasts. "I needed someone useless to fuck," she admitted brazenly. She seemed pleased with her comment, as her eyes flashed darker for a second before she properly schooled her expression.

Ymir clicked her tongue in false surprise. "What would the Reiss household think of their only heir swearing like a sailor?"

"What would they think of her fucking a street rat?" Krista shot back. She knocked Ymir's hand from her breast and ignored the cute pout that broke out onto Ymir's freckled face. "Stop touching me. This dress costs more than you do and you're getting it wet."

"But you dumped this shit on my head. I think it's divine punishment."

Ymir disregarded Krista's upset and pulled her in once more, though this time with both arms wound around her waist. She straightened, forcing the blonde to glance upwards at her to glare into her eyes.

"How dare you?"

"Say, I've been wondering if your heart's still open," Ymir said, eyes darkened dangerously.

Krista sank against the warm body before her and furrowed her brows. "More poeticism?"

"If so," Ymir continued, "I wanna know what time it shuts." She leaned down then, face now sticky and slightly wet with alcohol.

Krista cringed as Ymir's face closed in on her own. "You stink of alcohol."

Ymir ignored that. She tilted Krista's chin further upwards, and then ran her long finger down a pale throat. "I'd like to slip in before it closes."

Krista swallowed and Ymir felt it. The alcohol in her system caused an influential buzz in her mind. Being this close to something so dangerous had never felt so exhilarating. As if realizing that the wetness between her thighs would betray the logic she demanded of herself, Krista pulled away.

"Push me away all you want but I'll still come crawling back to you." Ymir leaned against the railing again, clothes soaked and eyes afire. The brown in them almost glowed gold, and Krista felt the most intense urge to lean in close to study them, as well as the smattering of spots along her nose and cheeks. What was it about them that was so damn attractive?

"I'm the kind of bug that bites deep and never lets go," Ymir said.

"Then I'll just have to kill it by crushing it underneath my heel."

Ymir reacted by pushing away from the railing and approaching Krista menacingly, frightening the buzzed blonde into stumbling backwards until her back pressed against cold glass. A knee slipped between her legs, pushing against her already moist centre, and she gasped lightly when Ymir's hands slapped against the surface to either side of her head.

"Yet you keep me around," Ymir said. "You could have fired me after the first time." She grinned naughtily, grinding her leg against Krista. It was an undignified position to be in, and seeing Krista looking so suddenly dishevelled was turning Ymir on.

"You're my guilty pleasure," Krista admitted tersely. The anger and resentment she dared to never display in front of her parents spilled out across her face. No longer was she the small, manipulated girl that everyone either pitied or used. No longer was she the weakling that idly sat by as her parents defaced her using high class language, despite her very presence in the room. "The dirty that I love to slip into."

Ymir kissed her then, lips crushing and mouths opening. She growled into Krista's mouth and then whimpered when strong hands clamped around her throat and pushed her away.

"What goes on in your head?" Ymir managed between laboured breaths. She so desperately wanted to take Krista there, right against the glass where anyone could walk by and see them. "Do you feel the same?" Her eyes scrutinized Krista's, and though she had asked a question, it was clear that she wanted no answer. None would be given either.

"Shut up," Krista commanded. "Shut up and distract me."

Ymir knew the words well. Her heart thudded hard against her ribcage, and then she was kissing Krista again with renewed passion. Clawing at her dress, she managed to slip the straps down pale arms and then rip the cloth from her chest. Krista's breasts had no chance to bounce before they were greedily grabbed and roughly palmed.

Krista groaned and bit down onto Ymir's lip. "Hard," she commanded. Her voice did not retain any of the softness she displayed for others. Now it was deep and hard and filled with quivering, raw emotion. "And fast. I am not a glass doll. I will not break."

Ymir didn't need to be told. She obeyed without a word and slipped her hands underneath Krista's bra. The flesh was as soft and warm as she remembered, though now it was warmer. The surface against her hands heaved and Ymir continued to ravish those delicious lips.

It took no longer than three seconds for Krista's nipples to harden against Ymir's touch. They were sensitive, and especially so when the brunette used the tips of her long fingers to grip them, rolling and tweaking as expertly as they could.

"Yes," Krista hissed. She hiked a leg up Ymir's side and grinned when she heard a tear from her dress.

"I thought you said this dress is expensive," Ymir exclaimed against her lips.

"I have enough money to wipe my ass with," Krista responded in a growl. "Now shut up and do what you are told."

Ymir's eyebrow hiked high upon her forehead. She ducked her head in consent, and then closed her lips around one nipple while she worked the other with her fingers. She ran her tongue around the pebbly flesh, enjoying the texture and the taste.

This proceeded for long minutes, with Krista's head tilted back, mouth open as she groaned, and a hand lost in Ymir's hair to tug roughly every few minutes.

Ymir grew impatient of the pace and released Krista's breast with a grin. She trailed her lips upwards, kissing and biting the supple skin, until she reached Krista's mouth. A small kiss was placed against the corner of her lips.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Ymir smiled. "I little tenderness won't kill you."

Krista seemed unimpressed, but then the gentle look in Ymir's eyes vanished and a dangerous hunger filled them. She suddenly pressed Krista to the glass, slipped a hand underneath her black lacy underwear, and then swept her fingers through abundant wetness.

"Jesus," Ymir exclaimed, air rushing through her nose in a harsh exhale. "I didn't expect you to be _this _wet."

"Does it really matter?" Krista tugged at Ymir's tie and pulled it free. She unbuttoned the first four buttons and then pressed her palms to Ymir's full breasts. A groan rumbled through her freckled chest.

This time Krista initiated the kiss. It was both a desperate action for connection as it was a violent reprimand for speaking. Ymir went with it.

She used feathery touches to drive Krista to the brink of madness, and then when her tongue was painfully bitten, she gave up on her games and thrust three fingers inside.

Krista's head slammed back against the glass and she quivered violently at the sensation. A long moan left her lips in the form of Ymir's name, and then she wrapped her arms around Ymir's shoulders and lifted her leg higher, hooking it around the brunette's hip.

This allowed more access, and Ymir took full advantage. With her neck so exposed, Ymir began to suckle on her skin as she thrust her fingers in the rhythm that she knew Krista craved.

It was fast and hard, causing the blonde's body to shake each time Ymir's fingers slammed to the hilt. Each time they did, each time her breasts bounced, Krista felt a part of her soul fall away. The longer those long fingers slid inside of her, the more freedom she felt. When those fingers curled, she could almost _taste_ the freedom.

Ymir's arm and wrist began to burn painfully, but she did not stop thrusting. Krista's moans were like an aphrodisiac, causing her own dripping centre to throb in time. Their hearts thudded out of sync, crazed, as did their breaths.

When the climax crawled near, Krista's hips began to buck and move of their own accord. Blue eyes were hidden behind closed lids. Her pink lips were still parted to allow large intakes of air and exhales that were low moans.

It happened far too quickly for Krista, but lasted longer than she had expected. She clamped down around Ymir's pleasuring digits and bit down onto her freckled shoulder to supress the scream she would surely have let loose into the cool night air.

Ymir grimaced at the pain but enjoy the fluttering around her fingers.

At last Krista calmed, and she finally allowed her leg to drop and her teeth to release Ymir's tender flesh. She took a few more minutes to compose herself, and then she lightly pushed Ymir away and straightened her dress. After her clothing and hair was neatened, though her dress still torn, Krista looked up at Ymir.

Ymir's eyes were still burning like fire. She knew it was over. A large part of her was disappointed. She wanted Krista to stay; to never leave. But it was not to be. They both had their place, and these endeavours would only remain as their dirty secrets.

However, Ymir could not resist leaving an impression. As Krista's calmed blue eyes studied her, she lifted her hand to her mouth and then slipped wet fingers through her lips. Krista's taste exploded on her tongue and she wished that she had decided to crouch down before ploughing in.

Krista released a short moan as she watched Ymir suck her juices from her fingers. Not a sight had been more erotic.

"How many secrets can you keep?" Krista asked softly. Her eyes did not leave Ymir's lips, even when the brunette had cleaned her fingers and removed them to wipe them off on her pants.

"As many as you want me to," Ymir responded with a smirk.

Krista quickly regained her control, and then she dusted the back of her dress off and started walking towards the door. She would not admit how her legs still shook, but she didn't need to. Ymir could plainly see it.

"We could be together if you wanted to," Ymir spoke up.

Krista paused with a hand on the sliding door handle. "You can find someone better than me," she answered.

"Maybe I'm too busy being yours to fall for somebody new." Ymir shrugged. "Do you _want_ me crawling back to you?"

Krista did not spare a glance, but her lips quirked ever so slightly. Ymir saw it in the reflection of the glass.

"Have you no idea that you're in deep?" she said airily. "I fear that we both won't be able to escape this mess we've started."

She spared no more words and opened the door, disappearing into the crowd. Ymir watched her go.

"I'm sad to see you go," she whispered to herself. "Was sort of hoping you'd stay for once."

She returned to her earlier position where she had found Krista earlier, and leaned against the railing again. Her skin felt sticky and gross, and she decided that she would take a shower as soon as she could.

For now she stared up at the moon, musing that their nights were only made for Krista to say the things that she never could tomorrow.


End file.
